This year is going to be the one when I master the art of packing light. (Admittedly, it is also supposed to be the year when I learn to speak French properly, make my own ice cream, etc.) For a while, I thought my only hope of becoming a light packer would be to chuck out all my big cases, leaving myself with one, modest-sized bag, but this seemed a little drastic. Surely I should be able to deal with this issue by force of will and self-control?

I am getting better, gradually. I have found that the key to light packing is to become more obsessive, not less, about what clothes you take. Two years ago, in Milan for the fashion shows, I enviously complimented one of my fellow fashion journalists on the succession of perfectly assembled, brilliantly accessorised outfits in which she appeared, day after bloody day. She explained that she achieved this by packing outfit by outfit, with each day's ensemble hung on a hanger with relevant underwear, hosiery, shoes, jewellery bagged and folded within.

For a long time, I took this as confirmation of my suspicion that most people who work in fashion are a croque-monsieur short of a picnic. And then I tried it. Usually, I pack by pulling out of my wardrobe all the things I currently like to wear, and then stuffing in shoes and more shoes until the zip strains. This time, I selected specific outfits, then chose two pairs of shoes and two cardigans that went with all of them.

Result? My bag was half the size; what's more, I wore everything, whereas normally I have lots of pieces that don't get worn because they don't work together. Only problem was, it took me half a day to pack for a week away, which even I can see is not time efficient.